Northern Hemisphere Blues

Banana Republic top. Zara pants. Tommy Hilfiger coat. Sperry Top-Siders.

These past few days, I could have decked myself out in bold brumal tartans, but I couldn't help daydreaming about catamaran cruises and plopping down on a plage. With a warm weather voyage on the horizon, I've been pulling out my best nautical looks these wintry weeks. I can't be the only one who takes solace in the Winter Solstice... And enjoys the Vernal Equinox more than her own birthday?

Ophthalmological Affairs

J.Crew Jackie cardigan and skirt. Vintage brooch. Banana Republic pumps.

My building's garden is built on a steep hill that slopes toward the marina, which makes for some beautiful and crooked photographs. Rotating these in Photoshop seemed like an easy fix until I noticed some rather disturbing side effects. Crooked images will have to do from now on, friends, because strabismus ain't pretty.

Stuffed Peppers

Joe Fresh sweater. J.Crew pants. Banana Republic heels. Club Monaco blouse. Vintage brooch.

I used to think the expression "slaving over a hot stove" was hilarious (which should give you a pretty good idea of my IQ), but that's exactly what I did this evening. Stuffing peppers replaced my usual dilly-dallying and now I get to savor their aroma for at least a couple of days. Don't you love it when the upholstered furniture is all dill and savory?

Raspberry All Over

Tommy Hilfiger trench coat. Hunter wellies. American Apparel scarf. BCBGirls dress.

When I started this blog, grooming a vanity project was not my intention. I was going through a dry spell, writing-wise, so I thought blogging would keep my hand in it. But here I am, prancing in a raspberry trench for the world to see. Vanity project it is! Still, self-awareness is nothing without a little self-persecution, which is why I have yet to change my computer's extra wide display. Friends may crack up at my stout multitude of selves, but at least I can maintain of shred of humility.

Synonymous My Foot

Talbots shirt, vintage skirt & brooch, American Apparel beret, Holt Renfrew scarf, Hunter wellies.

November rain = daily wellies. Fortunately, these are comfortable and stylish - at least that's what I think my coworker means when he says: "Rockin' the gum boots again, eh?". I'm currently schooling him on the connotations and denotations of these apparent synonyms, so I will let you know when progress has been made.

The No-Pants Clause

Raoul blouse, Talbots cardigan, Banana Republic skirt & pumps, Ann Taylor handbag.

Dear friends,
I'm alive and well. Also, a little surprised that no one got my eternal recurrence joke. No Nietzsche fans? Anyway, I've been recovering whilst watching Breaking Bad from the very beginning and I couldn't help noticing how much time Bryan Cranston spends pants-less in the first season. Is this the sort of thing that is written into one's contract? "Must be pants-less at least once per episode. AMC reserves the right to choose between briefs and brief nudity."

Thus Spoke Ana

I was recently hit with fever and various aches, so the most I can post right now are three-month-old photographs of Sunset Beach (it was glorious!) and my face (it was better!). Today should be fairly unproductive, but as soon as I begin my convalescence, I plan to invite several friends over and teach them all about eternal recurrence and whatnot. You know, the usual.

Portrait by Dan Abrams, but the landscape is by moi.

Do You Know A Grandpa Who Dresses Like This?

Talbots cardigan. Modern Amusement Skirt. Hunter Wellies.

... and poses like THIS?

That's what I thought.

It's Complimentary

Joe Fresh sweater. Hunter wellies. Banana Republic blouse & skirt. Hudson's Bay Umbrella.

It's been raining a lot, so I've been wearing simpler ensembles than usual. Also, I just purchased a chunky cardigan and to my chagrin, no one complimented me on it except a sexagenarian man who added: "I have one just like it." A grandpa cardigan, indeed.

HALLOWEEN

Blouse, Club Monaco. Sweater, Banana Republic. Skirt, Brooks Brothers. Pumps, Nine West.

Not a costume per se, but costumey enough. I found this silk blouse in a thrift store in perfect condition because really, where would one wear such a collar? I call it Marcella Marceau or Class Clown, which is odd since I'm a teacher. Now - who wants a balloon animal? I can make hyphens, commas, and parentheses. Yes, that kind of teacher.  

[Clowning]

Money to Spend

The Walking Dead

Blouse, thrift-ed Eley Kishimoto. Scarf, Icici. Pants, Zara. Brooch, vintage. Flats, Geox.

Being a derisive, believes-only-in-science kind of person makes it difficult for me to accept the general public's fascination with vampires, werewolves, zombies, and the like. So imagine my surprise when I get hooked on The Walking Dead (first meth and now zombies - is there anything AMC can't turn into TV gold?). Anyway, here is my expert opinion on this apocalyptic scenario. On the bright side, the survivors will be racially diverse because zombies don't discriminate (see also: death, taxes, and Camus's plague). Unfortunately, eluding death will also involve eating gruel and the occasional squirrel, which is no life at all.

Lazy Halloween

Dress, J.Crew. Headband, Holt Renfrew. Pumps, Nine West. Hydrangeas, free.

Are you a lazy, last-minute Halloweener? Do you own a black cocktail dress with a tight bodice and a full skirt, as well as a pair of black pumps? You're in luck, Jo Stockton from Funny Face. If you're extra lazy, feel free to replace the balloons with hydrangeas pilfered from your building's garden (round objects with stems = the same thing). And if no one recognizes you (aside from your gay best friend), put a spin on your funny face. I've dubbed mine Constipated Face.

Sized Up

Blouse & pumps, Banana Republic. Cardigan, J.Crew. Skirt, Club Monaco. Scarf & brooch, thrift-ed.

Have you ever noticed how the best apparel from the '50s and '60s tends to be the same size? I mean, in every vintage store and every city. It's such a tease for someone like me, merely a size or two larger. Shimmying into the finest Betty Draper dresses would require some serious digestive problems and dehydration (and, if purposefully induced, the derangement required in the first place). For the past fours years, I have been looking for the perfect Mad Men costume to wear on Halloween. Aside from alterations (I'm cheap and untalented), have you any suggestions?
One last thing... Some grammar advice for my fellow amateur grammarians.
 

On Crack

Sweater, J.Crew. Pants, Zara. Scarf, Portobello Market. Handbag, Ann Taylor. Flats, Browns.

In the middle of July, I traipsed about Portobello Market and only bought one thing for myself: a Royal Stewart tartan scarf. Needless to say, I've been eagerly awaiting colder weather so I could wear it while traipsing all over Canada. And yes, I picked the boldest and most popular of tartans, but you guys know color is my crack.

Polyfun

Elementary Mysteries

Shirt, J.Crew. Skirt, thrifted. Sunglasses, street vendor. Necklace, F21. Belt, Joe Fresh. Sandals, Geox.

In elementary school, my class did a play about the seasons - personified by fairies, aka the long-haired beauties in our class. I had a boyish haircut and a funny face so I played the chef, complete with a big pot to stir. Why was there a chef among fairies? Why was I congratulated for taking on such an "embarrassing part?" These are things that keep me up at night. 

Okanagan Photo Diary

I doubt one could ever tire of the Okanagan landscape (lakescape?). That's why I've been milking this trip and bombarding you with several such posts. You're welcome.  

Precipitation Goes Preppy

 

 

Good news: I've discovered the beauty of Polyvore! I know, every blogger and her mom has been using it for years, so cool it with the Mr. F quips. For my first "set," I completely ignored prices and focused solely on aesthetics, but I bet I can recreate this with pieces from my own closet. We are gonna have so much fun together, Polyvore.

The Search Engine Conundrum

Cardigan, J.Crew. Blouse, Raoul. Skirt, Brooks Brothers. Pumps, Banana Republic.

Like most bloggers, I get excited whenever I discover "a spike in my stats," unless, of course, the spike is the result of a perverted search. I regret to report that several such inquiries have directed sexual deviants here and would like to remind everyone that this a decent blog with harmless content. Furthermore, I am a fairly conservative dresser (irresistible to friends' moms), a grammar aficionado (kept up at night by the horrible misuse of homophones nowadays), and a lover of nature (look, a squirrel!). So the question remains: why me?

Bliss Bakery

Although I love dining out, my sojourn in the Okanagan included mostly picnic fare and easy grilling. One exception was a quick lunch at Bliss Bakery, a truly heavenly place that a couple of friends/locals had recommended. The Tuscan Vegetable Soup was hearty and delicious, but the clear winner was that beatific view.